


Day 28- Empathy

by Broken_Clover



Series: Autistic Creative Challenge 2019 [28]
Category: Guilty Gear
Genre: Angst and Feels, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Creative Challenge, Empathy, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 15:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18641131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broken_Clover/pseuds/Broken_Clover
Summary: Is it wrong to show kindness to the enemy?





	Day 28- Empathy

_Empathy. Noun. “The ability to understand and share the feelings of another."_

A simple enough concept. Then again, everything seemed simpler on paper. Bedman found it hard to understand the emotions of people who didn’t think objectively. Even if that was being perhaps a bit hypocritical. If he was forced to admit it, he would say that being able to see Delilah again at the cost of rebooting the world and everyone in it was entirely based on his own selfishness. He knew that. It didn’t make empathy any more of a simple prospect.

It didn’t exactly help that he had nobody to quantify the interactions he had. He wasn’t really capable of stopping in the middle of a conversation and asking if he was doing it properly. It was ridiculous, and would also probably get him stabbed. One of the many drawbacks of being the antagonist.

Maybe that’s what he could use to describe his emotions regarding Ramlethal and her dog…? No, on second thought, that seemed more like sympathy. Sympathy for a being that believed itself to have no purpose despite the clear burgeoning emotions. Ramlethal had a soul, emotions, a _purpose_ \- not experiences he could commiserate with, he liked to think that he’d always had a purpose and emotions- but ones that he could definitely sympathize with, to the point of denying his orders. She had just as much a right to live as anyone else.

Empathy. Empathy. A concept he was still struggling to properly grasp. He had been thinking the idea over for a while, mulling over details while he waited on Ariels’ next set of instructions, only to find his own personal space interrupted by an unlikely but still unwanted guest.

“Axl Low?”

Bedman was forced to abandon his thoughts in order to deal with his intruder. Though despite his intentions to quickly kill and/or scare the man off, it seemed that Low still kept his happy-go-lucky charm and...oddly endearing genuineness, to the point where he was willing to not immediately shoot him in the face and instead listen to whatever it was that was so important.

“I just want to go back to my...no…

...I just want to see Megumi again. Even just once.”

“Megumi?” It was one of the few times someone had been able to genuinely take him off-guard, if only momentarily. What was so special about this one person?

“She’s like...well, family, I guess you’d call it.”

There was a certain sort of audacity that came from breaking and entering into his dream in order to ask questions about life, but at least Axl was willing to admit it. Especially when, somehow by complete coincidence, the two of them apparently shared similar problems.

“What if I destroy the world to make one modest wish come true?”

Annoyingly enough, he didn’t want to empathize with Axl. He was supposed to be the enemy. He had to swiftly reiterate that he wouldn’t be willing to stand idly by if the man intended to get in the way of their plans. He wasn’t going to give that up, not out of something like empathy-

-it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to do anything, though.

With the final act rapidly encroaching, there was only so much that someone of his level of importance could do. Ariels was counting down the minutes until the Saint Oratorio, delighting in how the Flame of Corruption and all of his little friends were running around in an attempt to counteract the information flares. They were making progress, though, which was making tensions rise, but she seemed firm that they wouldn’t be fast enough to interrupt. At least, she was confident enough to not issue any new orders, or to call on him for anything.

So instead, Bedman got to work on a new little side project. There were millions of mindscapes to prune through, but he’d had enough experience in both sifting through the webs and recognizing the ones of people he’d encountered directly. Axl’s sudden appearance in his dream made it very easy to recognize his individual signature, and it was child’s play to pluck it out from the mess that surrounded them on all sides. As soon as he knew where Axl’s mind was, he knew where the rest of him had to be in the real world.

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. It was a dingy, cheap inn room above a bar which, according to the man’s memories, was an almost depressingly common place to stay as he drifted from place to place. No real place to go, nothing or no-one to consider turning to as a source of comfort- aside from the Flame of Corruption, who regarded him as an entertaining annoyance at best, and a tall glass of alcohol, which served as a temporary distraction and an easier way to sleep through the night.

It seemed Axl had gotten into a bit too much of the latter. He was passed out in a drunken haze on the beat-up mattress, apparently too out of it or too tired to even shed his day clothing before climbing into bed. It made for a depressing image.

Despite the machine’s immense weight, it moved quietly across the weathered floorboards. The few squeaks of wood were swallowed up by the sound of revelry downstairs. If the noise didn’t wake Axl up, he certainly wasn’t going to. The wheel’s spikes retracted back into hands. They carefully reached out as instructed, not to snap the sleeping man’s neck or crush his skull, but instead carefully nudging him onto his side and dragging a threadbare blanket over his body, earning no response all the while but an incoherent murmur.

Axl was out cold, but aside from the likelihood of having to deal with a splitting hangover the next day, Bedman couldn’t find any major concerns. That was good. There weren’t any extraneous details to have to deal with. He could work without worry.

There was no dream already playing out as he slipped inside, just a black void of unconsciousness. Everything would have to be made up from scratch. Not a particularly difficult task. First order of business, a little bit of light. In an instant, the darkness was swallowed up.

“W-what the- ?”

Axl had appeared in front of him, clearly confused. Bedman wasn’t sure if he could tell that he was dreaming yet, but that was inconsequential. He didn’t need to think. The landscape sprawled out from under them, soft grass springing up underfoot to form a green carpet. Axl was so surprised by the sudden changes, he never thought to turn around and see if he wasn’t alone.

Bedman wasn’t supposed to feel anything for this person, aside from disdain. So why was he here? Why was he doing this? He was supposed to behave objectively, yet he couldn’t find a single objective thought in his current situation. No logic. Just empathy.

Axl started to turn. Without thinking, Bedman found himself moving forward. He barely came up to the man’s shoulders, but he wrapped arms around him in an awkward parody of a hug, shocking them both back into motionlessness.

“W-what are you…”

“I will give you what I can’t have, even if it’s just for one night.” It was hard to think rationally. He’d put himself in a situation where that was impossible. The best option had to be just finishing as soon as possible and being on his way.

It was easy to erase his slight presence from Axl’s memory, especially with a new addition to his dreamscape a moment later to put his attention elsewhere.

“...Megumi?”

A woman with long, midnight-black hair took him by the hand with a smile. A beautiful meadow spread out as far as the eyes could see as they began walking, off to somewhere in the distance. Bedman watched them go, slowly fading back out into the real world until he once again found himself in the dingy little room.

It was a kindness. That was all it was. A little bit of kindness to someone that he felt he understood. Maybe it ultimately made no difference, but it was just one little spark of joy that hadn’t been there before. He could say that he’d done something good.

Even asleep, Axl was smiling now. He was still curled up on a dirty bed in a rickety inn room he could still barely afford, but despite all of that, he looked content. Happy.

“Tomorrow will be judgement day, but until then, sleep peacefully.”


End file.
